LISTENING IN THE BITTER NIGHT
Ha cannot catch whisper from owl-flight Nor softest murmur from the snowfall, Yet listening listening listening must await That voice grown quieter than all Such soundlessness. Shall Death more resolute prove Than this strange concentrated listening Love ?
Lightweight is the world in the frost as a frozen bird, Whilst now, on the snow, this shadow of moonlit tree, Passionless, here transcends reality.
0, by Love's frost-light, griefless, shadow-sense, Deep deep in the deepest heart of the silence Shall the wings of Life be unheard ?